


Flowers of Fire

by Moon_Theatre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Genji Shimada mentioned, German tries to write in English, Hanzo takes Jesse to a festival, M/M, McHanzo Week 2016, Winston mentioned - Freeform, first fanwork in a long time, prompt: first time, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:38:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8891029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Theatre/pseuds/Moon_Theatre
Summary: McCree would probably never get used to Japan and its culture, its people or food. When Hanzo invited him to go to a festival together, it became clear to the cowboy that there still was a lot to learn for him about this country. But as the reddish hues of dusk replaced the summer sun, this became irrelevant to him, at least for one fleeting moment. He just watched the flowers of fire blossoming in the darkened skies, while enjoying the feeling of being soaked into colors and care alike.In which Hanzo takes Jesse to a Japanese matsuri for the first time.





	

Admittedly, it could have been such a nice and simple mission – “investigating on alleged Talon activity in Ōsaka”, that’s what Winston said – if it just hadn’t been so scorching hot. Summers in Japan were horribly humid and sweltering; nothing McCree wasn’t familiar with, but certainly nothing he was fond of, either. Because of that, there were just two things that were good about this mission: first, Hanzo was with him, and second, it was over real quick.  
The traces, they had been following for the last ten days, eventually led the duo to what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse. They found almost zero hints of illegal activities, however. Almost. Hanzo found some blueprints for strange, yet unidentified mechas or even omnics, maybe stolen from Vishkar Corporation. Also, McCree detected huge amounts of gunpowder on the concrete ground and ammunition for pulse guns in a back room.  
“They were here.”, the archer realized. “But now, they are gone. We are too late.”  
“Yeah, but seems like the fellas didn’t really care t’clean up after ‘emselves. Pretty nasty, if ya ask me. Caught wind of us chasin’ ‘em down ‘n got scared, probably.”, McCree mumbled while swiping drops of sweat from his forehead. Even though it was much cooler inside the warehouse, the baking heat still stuck to the cowboy’s body.  
“Perhaps you are right.” Hanzo took a short moment to think about their situation. After a while he just sighed and decided: “Anyhow, we have to report what we found.”  
“Yer right, sugar. Let’s jus’ get outta here.”

 

They got themselves a room at a hotel, while they stayed in the Japanese metropolis. Japan’s people were quite a delight to McCree, who was not really used to be treated with respect and kindness. When Hanzo and the cowboy first asked for a room, the desk clerk cheerfully expected the pair to be a couple on honeymoon, what they denied politely, despite being a bit flattered nonetheless. (Hanzo told McCree later how much he hated her dialect. He didn’t even notice a dialect, to be really frank. And she was so nice, still.) The room itself – more of an apartment, really – was pretty neat, quite luxurious even, in Jesse’s opinion. There was a bedroom, in which a large king-size bed with cozy, crimson red bedding and a huge amount of pillows awaited the exhausted agents; a big bathroom with one of those extra-wide, Japanese bathtubs and an area where you could shower before entering the bathtub; a high-tech toilet in an extra room; and even a small kitchen. The hotel was in Namba, near the Ebisu Bridge, and it had a beautiful view from the bedroom’s large window. You could see the Dōtonbori Canal, illuminated in all kinds of colors by shop signs and lantern. When the night fell and the restless couple couldn’t find any sleep, they spent some time cuddling on the bed, looking out of the window watching the colors flow with the canal’s movements.  
“So, you’ve ever been to Ōsaka before, sweetheart?”, Jesse asked when they entered the room in the afternoon. It was pleasantly chilly in the well-air-conditioned apartment compared to the stifling warmth in the streets.  
“Yes.”, the archer replied, taking off his shoes in the _genkan_. “When I was a child, our father brought Genji and me to Ōsaka-shi to visit… the…” Suddenly, Jesse’s lover was lost in thoughts. He put down his quiver and storm bow next to his shoes, mumbling something in Japanese.  
“Jesse, tell me… what is today’s date?” “Why, it’s the 25th of July. What’s the matter, darlin’?”  
Hanzo hummed, thoughts running wild, and McCree once again wished to himself he were a mind reader, so he would understand just what his boyfriend was up to.  
After a short while of silent considering, Hanzo finally rose to speak again. “Have you… ever been to a _matsuri_?”  
Jesse, who had already taken off his boots, waiting in the corridor for his dragon, just stared at the older man, questioning.  
“I suppose that is a ‘no’?”, Hanzo assumed, arching a brow. After clearing his throat, he continued. “What I wanted to tell you earlier, was my father brought Genji and me to Ōsaka-shi to visit the famous _Tenjin-Matsuri_. Apparently, this festival is tonight. I was just thinking about going there and wondered whether or not you would like to join me.”  
Hearing that, Jesse’s eyes widened incredulously. Grinning widely, he asked teasingly: “Darlin’, are ya askin’ me out?”  
Hanzo, who was caught completely off guard, turned bright red immediately. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, he stammered angrily: “N-no! I was only wondering… because I-I fought it would be fun to end this mission with a celebration… I did not mean to…”  
The cowboy laughed rumbling and throaty, wrapping his large arms around his lover’s shoulders, who buried his face instantly in the younger man’s trapezius. “I’d love to go there with you, sugar.”, the cowboy chanted.

 

Near 06:00pm, Jesse still laid down on their bed. He thought about the mission, about how Winston was not pleased to hear the news that Talon had been able to escape, while he was listening haft-heartedly to the news on TV. Hanzo wanted to leave for the festival around 06:10pm, so Jesse had already taken a shower, brushed his teeth, put on a newly washed flannel button down with light blue and white checks and just slightly washed-out jeans – properly dolled himself up, he’d called it.  
The gunslinger just waited for his dragon to return to the bedroom. Since he got tired of just laying still, he got up, opened the window and lit up a cigarillo. He watched the white smoke dancing in the evening wind, considering abandoning this nasty habit for, like, the thirty-sixth time in the last year, and finally deciding to stop thinking about it, because he just wouldn’t quit anyways. It had become a bit cooler outside, but still warm enough to make McCree think it had been a great idea to go to the matsuri before returning to Gibraltar. To take a break before returning to routine and duty.  
Suddenly, he heard the door sliding open. McCree turned around to meet eyes with his beautiful boo. The Japanese man wore a loose traditional garment in simple black with a white seam over his muscular body, with a broad belt around his hips, keeping the robe closed. Underneath the smooth fabric Jesse could see parts of Hanzo's full-sleeve-tattoo. His raven hair was open, framing his angelic face, brushing his shoulders; his grey sideburns accentuating his high, regal cheekbones. Hanzo’s caramel eyes were wide open, analyzing Jesse’s reaction. When the archer saw Jesse’s jaw dropping, he seemed to be very content, chuckling a bit.  
“I planned on asking you how I’m looking but I guess, there is no need to do so.”, Hanzo suggested, a sly smirk gracing his well-curved lips. He hooked his arms infront of his chest and waited for his boyfriend to recover.  
Jesse gulped. He didn’t expect his partner to look this gorgeous. Man, he just couldn’t believe that such an absolutely alluring man really was with him. Really wanted to be with him. Hanzo had his choice of men and women alike, but he chose him, and this seemed like a miracle to McCree.  
“Well, hot damn, doll, yer lookin’ stunnin’.”, he declared, admiring the sight. “Didn’t know y’ had a kimono-thingy…”  
“This is not a kimono, Jesse. I am wearing a _yukata_. It is like a more comfortable version of a kimono with more loose fabric.”, Hanzo corrected.  
Jesse chuckled and closed the distance between them with two large strides to embrace the smaller man, who placed his hands on his gunslinger’s hips in an instant. Then, Hanzo’s lips pierced upwards, stealing a quick kiss, which utterly surprised McCree. The cowboy still couldn’t believe how much process Hanzo had made, when it came to showing his genuine affection. Just a few weeks ago, the older man had been way too proud to let Jesse even touch him. Now they were standing there, bodies entwined, eyes closed, warm breath intermingling as soft lips parted against each other. Tongues touching. Grins gleaming. 

 

They took the subway to Tenmabashi Station. From there, Hanzo explained while entering the _densha_ , they had to walk for another 5 minutes to get to the procession at the Okawa River. The black-haired man’s wooden _geta_ clicked on the densha’s floor, and the soft sound fused with low-kept voices and other passenger’s steps.  
Jesse’s gaze was wandering around inside of the train wagon. On each side of the wagon, there was one separate row of seats, covered with aquamarine blue cushions. Above the seat rows, there were lots and lots of colorful posters, showing beautiful, cheerful Japanese women and some kind of beauty products – Jesse didn’t know anything about that sort of stuff – or artistic pictures of the imperial gardens in Tōkyō or just instructions on not to be rude and occupy more space for yourself than needed while being on the train.  
“Chotto manin da, nee…” McCree knew what that meant. A bit crowded, isn’t it? And as he heard Hanzo whispering this sentence, he couldn’t help himself but laugh sharply at how understated this vague observation was. The whole train was full of people; some dressed as traditional as the dragon, some more western. He could even spot some tourists.  
“Ya think, everyone of ‘em is goin’ t’ that festival?”, the cowboy asked quietly, almost a bit frightened.  
“Indeed, it appears they are.” “Damn, it’s gonna real be cramped then.”  
When they arrived at the station, a swarm of people already streamed to the exits and because the agents couldn’t fight the current, they decided to just let themselves float with it. On their way to the river, they were guided by some volunteers, who gave out fans and explained directions. Not that they needed any explanations. After all, they had Hanzo.  
The festival was like a huge market, the individual sales booths, however, were pretty small. Mostly food stalls. McCree felt like he had some kind of a déja-vu, thinking about old Japanese movies he watched way back when he was a child, like _Spirited Away_. There was only one significant difference: infront of each booth at Tenjin Matsuri was what seemed to be an endlessly long line of people.  
“Awfully, cramped, as I said.”, the cowboy observed. His lover, however, didn’t bother complaining. He just drew Jesse to the end of one of the shorter queues and told him to wait a moment. It would be their turn really quick. Despite doubting his words a bit, McCree did what he had been told. And surprisingly, not much time passed until it really was their turn.  
_“Etto… Takoyaki robbyaku en de futatsu.” “Hai, shōchō omachikudasai.” “Hai, onegaishimasu.”_  
McCree knew a bit Japanese. Hanzo taught him and he had no actual problem when it came to understanding his sweetheart. Despite that, it was still very hard for him to comprehend when Hanzo spoke to other Japanese people. Whenever he dedicated himself to everyday chatter with Genji, for example, they tended to speak a lot faster, used vocabulary and probably proverbs he wasn’t familiar in the slightest with. These things made it impossible for the American to follow their conversations. When Hanzo spoke to salesmen, it was similar. Jesse knew he wouldn’t keep up with what they talked about, so he didn’t even try and waited until the older man thrusted a small box with six weird looking pastry balls in it in Jesse’s hand.  
“What’s that?”, he wondered, while he picked up the toothpick lying beside the orbs.  
“Did you never hear of _takoyaki_? How anticlimactic.”  
His lover sighed and grabbed his own toothpick. Then, he lifted one of the balls – takoyaki – from McCree’s box with it, told him to “open your mouth, but be aware that it is going to be hot” and fed it to him. The snack really was hot on the inside – went down like gooey lava, actually – but the unfamiliar flavor made McCree forget about his aching tongue and throat really quick. It tasted weird but actually pretty good. The takoyaki was warm and creamy and there was something a bit chewy on the inside of the ball, which made McCree wondering. What was that?  
“Octopus.”, Hanzo explained. “And the things on top of the balls are dried kelp and katsuobushi.”  
Octopus? Really? Jesse had a hard time understanding Japanese food. He didn’t even know what that katsuo…thingy was, but why on earth would you put octopus gobbets inside of a pastry ball? That was such a weird but great idea to him. Because of the returning pain on his tongue, however, he decided to continue eating later.  
The pair dived deeper into the masses on lantern-enlightened paths until they reached the riverside, where Hanzo spread out a blue blanket with a dragon motif on a grassy hill and they sat down on said blanket. They didn’t see much of the actual procession, because they were too late, and McCree didn’t really understand much about what the people on the several boats on the river were doing. He wasn’t even sure about what exactly the point of the festival was, since he had never been to a matsuri before but when he saw fire on one of the boats, he became curious.  
“So… Please promise not t’ laugh, honey, but… What is this festival ‘bout, actually?”, the cowboy inquired, reaching for Hanzos hand and caressed it gently, cold metal meeting warm flesh. His hand was beautiful in Jesse’s opinion, like every other part of his lover. The archer had large hands and yet his fingers were long and delicate. The cowboy loved holding these hands, kissing them, watching Hanzo’s expression become all soft and affectionate. Watching his cheeks turn pink in an instant. Now, however, he couldn’t do that. In Japan it was not common for couples to show their love openly, so just holding and fondling this hand had to be enough for the moment.  
Hanzo didn’t promise not to laugh but he was too surprised by the loving touch to laugh at his boyfriend. He smirked lightly, head tilted, looking at McCree with half-lidded eyes, caramel eyes shimmering through dark and thick lashes.  
“You see, Tenjin Matsuri is a festival to honor the Shintō God Tenjin. He is the God of scholarship and the patron of scholars. Is this enough information to satisfy you?”  
Jesse was completely bewitched. He thought about lips like cherry blossoms and how much he wanted to kiss this smile on his lover’s face. It became harder and harder to restrain himself, when the cowboy’s flesh hand hesitantly reached out to tuck up Hanzo’s silky black hair. His gloved hand drew closer and closer.  
Then, suddenly, McCree winced at the sound of loud rumbling above their heads, pulling his hand back instantly. Both of them looked up to the now dusky sky. The cowboy didn’t even notice the sun sinking. Now, the fireworks had started, making the couple on the blue blanket look like they were saturated by various bright colors. McCree watched the small sparks racing up into the darkening skies, just to burst asunder, painting pictures on an ebony canvas.  
“Say, _anata_ , do you know how we call fireworks in Japan?”, Hanzo murmured, while he leaned against Jesse’s right arm and bedded his head on his lover’s shoulder, embracing the arm loosely. His hair fell a bit forward as he positioned himself, so that he was comfortable.  
“No. How do ya call ‘em?”  
“We say _hanabi_ , which means fire flowers.”  
“That’s so beautiful, darlin’.”, McCree marveled. Fire flowers. What a poetic and celestial yet fitting way to describe the formations above them.  
When McCree first came to Japan with Hanzo, he didn’t even dare to dream of going to a festival with him. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t known how to deal with the completely new culture when they were on the jet and, really, he couldn’t even get the language right. It was so different from English or even Spanish and he still had to rely on the archer when it came to buying or ordering something. And he would probably never get used to all the blinding colors in the never sleeping metropoles or the weird but strangely nice people, or the uncommon food or those loose garments – yukata, was it? Now, however, all of that didn’t matter to him. It wasn’t too important to adapt to all of that now. Because just sitting on this dragon blanket by the river, watching these vibrant, flaming flowers of fire’s both blooming and withering in the sky while tentatively nestling up against Hanzo – for Jesse that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this short fanfiction I created for the first day of McHanzo Week 2016. Prompt was "First Time". It's been a long time since I've written a fanfiction and this is also the first one I wrote in English, so please let me know about typos or grammar mistakes :)
> 
> Notes on Japanese words:  
> \- genkan -> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genkan  
> \- matsuri -> simply means "festival"  
> \- yukata -> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yukata  
> \- densha -> means "trains" and is Japan's main public transport  
> \- geta -> traditional Japanese wooden footwear https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geta_(footwear)  
> \- takoyaki -> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takoyaki  
> \- anata -> means "you", but can also mean "love" or "darling" when addressing your significant other  
> \- Translation of Hanzo's conversation with the salesman -> "Two times takoyaki for 600 yen, please." "Alright, please wait a moment." "Yes, thank you."  
> (Japanese is NOT my native tongue but I've been studying it for six years now. However, please let me know if I made any mistakes. Also, even though I've been to Ōsaka before, I guess, I couldn't get the geography 100% right. Please don't mind that. Let's just say, it's 2076 and Ōsaka had changed a bit ;D)


End file.
